The Sweat of a Gladiator
by canoncansodoff
Summary: Ron is poisoned, and the hag that holds the only available antidote wants Harry to pay for it in sweat. The catch? The sweat must be gathered by one virgin witch while Harry deflowers a second. Who is going to help? Who is qualified to help?
1. Chapter 1

**The Sweat of a Gladiator**

**A/N:** This story is a revised and edited M-rated version of an NC-17 rated fic that I originally posted on portkey. Anyone impatient to know what happens next (or wants to see the smuttier version that can't be posted here on ff dot net) can read the entire story over there. I'm posting this version for those who don't care for (or aren't old enough to be reading) explicit fanfiction.

Note that while this story has been completed, the edited and revised version has not. I'm posting this in my spare time whilst trying to keep two other stories active, so updates will occur on an irregular basis.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

..oo00OO00oo..

**Chapter One**

The resolute look on Madame Pomfrey's face as she rushed past Harry and Hermione was the first bit of encouragement they'd received all day.

Ron might be dying, but at least someone might now have an idea why.

They looked back towards the open infirmary doors and seized the opportunity to rejoin their fallen friend. He was in a bed at the far end of the room, his unconscious body racked by convulsions no less severe than when they'd brought him to Hogwarts a half-hour previous. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were alongside the bed with Horace Slughorn, while Luna Lovegood was busy consoling Ginny as both sat on the facing bed. Harry had been a bit put off when Hermione and he had been ordered to stay outside of the infirmary, but understood Poppy's desire to limit visitors to family and significant others. Besides, it had given him a few minutes time to decide just what to say when he faced Ron's parents.

"Professor Slughorn," Hermione immediately asked, "did you identify the poison?"

The Potions Master looked up at them and nodded gravely. "Based on his symptoms and the little that you've told me on the way up here, I'm afraid that I have."

"So now that we know the poison we can give him the antidote, right?" Harry asked, as Hermione and he approached the other side of Ron's bed.

"We could, if we had it on hand," he replied. "but if I'm right, the antidote is even rarer than the toxin itself."

At that declaration, Molly let out an anguished cry. As Arthur tried to console his wife he looked up at Harry and Hermione and said, "Madame Pomfrey thought she might know someone who might possibly have access to the antidote, so she went to the Headmistress's to use the secure floo."

Hermione looked down at Ron's gaunt pale face as his body twisted back and forth. "How soon would the antidote have to be administered?" she asked.

"Within a few hours," Slughorn replied, "or else…"

The "or else" assessment brought out another maternal lament.

Mr. Weasley caught Harry's attention. "I know that you three have been off on some secret mission," he said, "but it would mean a lot to us if you could tell us how this happened."

Harry nodded.

"Last year," he began, "Professor Dumbledore revealed to me that Voldemort had created powerfully Dark objects that needed to be found and destroyed in order to keep the bastard dead the next time I kill him."

"What kind of Dark objects?" Arthur asked.

Harry gaze shot over towards Professor Slughorn, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else at that very moment. He then replied, "When the Headmaster asked me to continue on the search for these objects, should he not be able to, he made me promise not to reveal the secret to anyone but Hermione and Ron."

"And so the three of you were looking for these objects?"

Harry nodded. "They have been difficult to find and even harder to retrieve once we've found them. But we located one of them this morning in a heavily warded house…thought we'd disarmed all of the magical traps, but when Ron reached for the cup the flooring disappeared and he fell into a pool of greenish liquid. We think he must have swallowed some of it."

"Where were the two of you?" Molly asked.

"We were right next to Ron," Hermione said. "When the floor gave way and we all started to fall Harry and I thought to apparate away from the house and the danger, but Ron…"

"Ron still hasn't passed his apparition test," Arthur said as he nodded his head in understanding. "So it didn't occur to him."

The conversation was interrupted by the soft "pop" of a House Elf's arrival.

"Mister Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said excitedly, after he caught Harry's eye, "Headmistress needs you and the three little witches in her office straight away."

"Whom does she need to see?" asked Molly.

Dobby tried again. "Headmistress told Dobby to tell Harry Potter, sir, to bring Miss 'Moine, Miss Luna and Miss Ginny to her office using this parchment."

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and led her towards Dobby. Grabbing the document, he said "Ginny, Luna, let's go….imagine that the parchment's a portkey that will get us there quickest."

Ten seconds later, Harry and "the three little witches" were plopped in front of a worried looking Headmistress, who was seated behind her desk with Madame Pomfrey standing to her side. Harry was about to ask what news they had when his thoughts were interrupted by a cackling voice. As he turned towards the source, Harry cringed at the sight of a repulsive-looking hag standing by the open window. She looked like someone who had just been swept up off the fetid cobblestones of Knockturn Alley.

"There's a nice Poppy," the hag said with a toothless grin, "I knew you'd come through with the boy. He'll be very tasty, indeed."

"Now see here," said a tight-lipped McGonagall, "No decision has been made, and none will be made until Mr. Potter decides for himself."

Harry was gobsmacked speechless, so it was up to Hermione to ask the obvious.

"Headmistress?"

Madame Pomfrey spoke up. "You've had a chance to talk with Professor Slughorn, no doubt." When Harry nodded, she continued. "The antidote to the poison that Mr. Weasley ingested requires the pickled roots of a rare magical plant from China. I've checked and there are no legally-obtained stocks of the root or the antidote in Britain, and St. Mungo's says that given the current shortage of medical supplies that it would take at least three weeks to import what's needed."

"But Professor Slughorn said that Ron needs the antidote within the next few hours," noted Ginny.

Headmistress McGonagall turned towards Ron's sister. "That is correct," she said softly. "Which is why I asked Poppy to pursue all possible…" She looked over at the hag with disgust before continuing, "…all possible alternative sources."

"That would be me, Dearie," the old hag said with a leering grin.

Harry turned to the hunching hag. "You have the antidote, then?" When the hag nodded her head he said, "If the Headmistress arranges transport, I'll take you to Gringott's and you can have what ever you want from my vaults."

"Won't be necessary, dear," the old hag said, "you've got what I want within you right now."

Harry recoiled, his thoughts flashing back to the night that his blood was forcibly taken during the Riddle graveyard ritual. Hermione immediately wrapped a protective arm around Harry in support, then turned back to Madame Pomfrey. "What does she want?" she asked.

"She wants his sweat," Poppy replied simply.

"_Double pure_ sweat," the hag added with a chortle.

"What do you want my sweat for, you old hag?" Harry asked.

Luna, who had been standing quietly back by the door all this time, finally spoke up. "She wants it as the main ingredient in an aphrodisiac potion, I imagine."

Ginny turned towards the hag with a look of disgust. "As ugly as she is, wouldn't a polyjuice potion get her laid easier?"

"Aye, my little witch, you are right about that," the hag replied. "But I am not desperate, I'm just a simple business woman looking for fair exchange and fair profit...my rare antidote for an equally rare liquid."

Harry turned to Madame Pomfrey with a look of concern on his face. "Would my sweat really work as part of an aphrodisiac potion?"

Poppy snorted. "As many times as I've patched you up? I imagine so. The practice of using the sweat of the strongest warriors for female aphrodisiacs goes all the way back to the days of Roman witches and their strongest gladiators."

The hag nodded in agreement. "No wizard warrior today is more powerful than the one who has stood up to the Dark Lord, what is it…five times now?"

"Six actually," Harry muttered absent-mindedly.

"Disgusting, perverted old hag," exclaimed Ginny.

Harry snorted in agreement. "I don't care if she bathes in the stuff, so long as it helps Ron. Why don't I just run a few laps around the castle and wring out my t-shirt?" He turned to see the support in Hermione's eyes only to be rattled by her pallid complexion.

"Harry," she said quietly, "if it was that easy, I'm sure the Headmistress wouldn't have needed to send for all four of us."

The old hag laughed and swung her wand in an imaginary gold swing. "She swings…and it's in the hole!" She then gazed in Hermione's direction. "Or should I say it's to be in your hole?"

Harry pulled his wand on the witch and scowled. "You will treat her with respect or all you'll get from me is the business end of my wand."

"A tempting offer, dearie," the hag retorted, "but I'm afraid I'm a little too, shall we say, experienced…to be of any use right now."

"What are you on about?" Harry demanded.

"Harry," the Headmistress said with more compassion in her voice that Harry had ever heard before, "this is a terrible situation, and a terrible position for all of us to be put in, and I'm sorry that we haven't been able to find a better option." She stood, then walked around the front of her large oak desk and sat back along the front edge (putting her close enough to Harry to reach out and touch his shoulder). "The sweat of a warrior is apparently categorized into different grades, based on the activities engaged in at the time of collection."

"Activities? Just what are we talking about here?"

"Well," said Madame Pomfrey, "there's standard sweat, special sweat, pure sweat and double pure sweat."

"What's the difference, and what are those activities?" Harry asked, earning him another Brothers Grimm-worthy cackle from the hag.

Poppy and McGonagall looked at each other uncomfortably, before the Headmistress turned to address Harry's questions.

"Standard sweat is, well…standard…run-of-the-mill "nervous because you haven't studied for your NEWTs"-type sweat. For purposes of the aphrodisiac potion, "special" sweat is collected off a warrior's body as he's engaged in, erm…how should I say it?"

"Engaged in hot, steamy sex?" asked Luna.

"Erm, yes dear – quite right."

"Oh," was all that Harry could muster past his lips. He looked towards Hermione and let out another, longer, more worrisome version of the declarative. She responded with a grim but sympathetic smile.

"Dare I ask about the other flavors?" he asked.

"Might as well," said the hag, "Because I won't settle for anything less than double pure."

Luna stepped up next to Harry's left side, opposite Hermione, and grabbed his hand in support as well. "Pure sweat is collected whilst the warrior is deflowering a virgin," she said.

Harry choked on a bit of saliva stuck at the back of his throat. After clearing it with a coughing fit he said, "And I suppose double pure means he has to deflower twins?"

"Don't be silly, Harry," Luna replied. "Double pure means that the sweat is collected by a second virgin female while the warrior deflowers the first."

"Oh, well, if that's all…" Harry said sarcastically. He then turned back to McGonagall. "Please tell me that there's another way. I'd walk through fire for Ron, but to have to ask two women to…well…to…."

"Harry, I know, I know," the Headmistress said in sympathy. "St. Mungo's is looking for options, but nobody's popped their head through the floo yet with an alternative."

Hermione reached up and gently touched Harry's shoulder. "We haven't much time," she said. "So long as we can verify that the hag has the antidote you should make the deal."

Harry turned and looked at her with tenderness. He started to say something, before thinking better of it. Turning to the Headmistress, he asked, "Could you give us just a few minutes?" He then led Hermione out of the office, with Ginny and Luna tagging along as well.

"Hermione," Harry said once the office door was closed, "I couldn't ask a girl to give something that precious…I mean, this is supposed to be a sacrifice for me? Sounds more like something pulled off a racy internet fiction site."

Ginny snickered. "I don't think you have to worry about the girl thinking it a sacrifice to be bedded by you, Harry…there'd be a line of volunteers from here to Hogsmeade."

Harry looked at Ginny with disbelief. "Oh, you're just putting me on."

Hermione shook her head in disagreement. "Luna," she asked, "how many active members of the Harry Potter Fan Club do you imagine are virgins?"

The Ravenclaw thought for a second. "You mean within the entire membership, or just the witches?"

Harry choked on more saliva, to Hermione's amusement.

"Just the witches."

Luna looked at Ginny as they silently tried to work out an answer. "At least thirty or so," Luna finally said.

"There you have it," Hermione said. "Might be harder to find one willing to have another girl watching, ready to collect your sweat, but still…"

"What about finding a girl willing to collect the sweat?" Harry asked. "Talk about thankless jobs…."

"Oh," said Hermione, with a small bit of surprise, "I guess I had figured that I'd be the one to do that."

"What?" Harry said incredulously. "You mean you…"

"What," Hermione said with frustration, "Don't imagine that I'm qualified for the job?"

"No, of course not," Harry said defensively. "You know I wouldn't even think that…you know how well I know you, right?"

"Then you think that I don't care enough about Ron to follow through on this?"

"Well, no, of course not, it's just that…."

Hermione continued building her full head of steam. "So you don't want me there to help you…is that it? Or is it you'd rather have someone else scraping the sweat off your bum…"

"No, I mean…Merlin, what kind of question is that for me to have to answer?"

"So it is me then," Hermione said with tears in her eyes. "Fine, I'm sure Luna and Ginny could help you out…I'll just go keep Ron company."

She turned to leave, but Harry stopped her with a firm grab of her arm. "Hermione, please. I need your help…I need you, just like I always need you. Won't be able to get through this otherwise."

Hermione looked at him with calculation, then let out a firm sigh. "Fine, then…sign me up…whom do you want, though?" She turned towards Luna and Ginny, expecting them to start contributing to the conversation. They looked at each other for a second before Ginny sighed and faced Harry and Hermione.

She said, "I'm afraid that I can't help you, Harry."

"Why is that?" Harry asked in confusion. "Seemed like you were eager enough to offer me that kind of help last spring."

"Oh, no…it's not you Harry," she replied, her cheeks approaching her hair color in hue. "It's just that, well, you broke up with me, remember? And this Fall, you three didn't come back to Hogwarts, and I did, and Dean Thomas did, and….and we did."

"Did what?"

"Oh don't be daft," Hermione said with a scowl. "She's trying to tell you she and Dean are shagging."

Her assessment was confirmed when Ginny, eyes firmly planted on the stone floor, nodded her head in agreement.

Harry didn't know what to say, so he tried to pretend he was all business and facts and actions. "Oh, well, better to learn that now, I guess."

"I'm qualified, at least in that regard," said Luna calmly. "Ron and I haven't gotten nearly that far, but either way…to save his life…I'd be willing…."

Ginny looked up from the floor and tried to catch Harry's gaze. "Do you want me to go round up the Fan Club, or would a list of names be good enough for you?"

Harry looked at her with disbelief. Gathering his wits before he responded, he said. "No thanks, Ginny. I think, if we're going to do this, that I have all of the help I need right here." He then reached out and grabbed Hermione and Luna's hands searching for confirmation. The head nods and hand squeezes told him all that he needed to know.

"Ginny, why don't you go back to the infirmary and tell your parents that we're working on getting the antidote."

With tears in her eyes Ginny nodded and quietly walked onto the moving stairway that carried her down towards the tower's base.

Luna and Hermione watched Ginny spiral downwards out of sight, then turned to each other and snorted, as if they'd telepathed a private joke. They then looked back at Harry.

"So…" Hermione asked, "which of us does what?"

Harry looked at Hermione as if she were dafter than Ron on most days (which was saying something).

"Hermione," he replied as he squeezed her hand, "as if you needed to ask…" He then opened the door to the Headmistress's office, and, distracted by the thought of shagging his best friend, stepped through without holding the door for the two girls.

Not that the two witches minded Harry's lapse in manners...with his back turned, Harry wasn't in a position to see a smiling Luna as she turned and gave Hermione a "thumbs-up" gesture. And he certainly couldn't see Hermione as she pumped both fists in the air, silently mouthed a triumphant "YES!" and did a quick happy dance.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Sweat of a Gladiator**

**Disclaimer**: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**Chapter Two**

When Harry, Hermione and Luna walked back into the office they discovered McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey hunched over a document.

The Headmistress looked up and asked, "Where is Miss Weasley?"

Harry and Hermione stole glances at each other before Harry replied. "She went back down to the infirmary to be with Ron and her family."

"Will she be returning then?"

"Erm, no," Harry replied quietly. "We have decided…that is to say, the three of us have decided…to agree to the exchange."

The Headmistress nodded, looking like she wanted desperately to ask which of her students would be the sweat collector. Luna must have picked up on this as well, because out of the blue she said, "They're the shaggers, I'm the scraper."

"Oh, well, I see."

"There has to be verification of their purity," the old hag cackled from her position by the window. "Number one on the 'Terms and Conditions',."

"Oh, yes, well that makes sense," the Headmistress said tightly. "I'm sure that our school nurse can verify by examination that these young witches are vir…." She stopped in mid-sentence when she spied Hermione looking nervously down at the floor. "Miss Granger, is there a problem?"

Hermione's face turned beet red. "Erm, no, Headmistress….I mean yes, in a way…it's just that…I'm afraid that a physical examination won't provide the kind of proof that the old hag probably expects."

"And why is that?"

"Erm, well…it's rather embarrassing, but I was on ski holiday with my parents, and I had this accident, you see, and one of the bindings gave way and a ski snapped up and hit me hard in the…"

"Oh, I understand," the Headmistress replied tersely. "So you are saying that your hymen was broken during an accident."

Hermione continued to keep her eyes on her shoes, dying from having to talk about this in front of Harry. "Erm, yes, Headmistress."

Luna stepped up and announced, "Headmistress, I've got the same problem…last year my hymen broke on accident."

"What happened to you?"

Luna smiled brightly, "One night on accident I used too much lubricant..and my broomstick handle slipped while I was masturbating and…"

"That's quite enough, Miss Lovegood," the Headmistress admonished. As Harry looked at both of his classmates with gobsmacked amazement, McGonagall turned towards the hag. "I assume that the betrothal spell would be sufficient proof?"

The hag nodded. "That would indeed be adequate." As she raised her wand Minerva shouted, "Oh no you don't." She then turned to Poppy. "Would you please administer the spell?"

As the nurse nodded her head in agreement Harry whispered a question into Hermione's ear. She turned and replied. "It's an ancient spell used back in the days when arranged wizard marriages were brokered. Don't worry, it's safe, and relatively non-invasive."

"Relatively non-invasive?" Harry asked with a bit of alarm. But before he could say anything else, Poppy cast her spell at the two young witches.

Hermione jumped a bit and let out a small cry of surprise, while Luna twisted her knees together and complained, "Oooh, that's cold!" Ten seconds later, golden circles formed and hovered above both of their heads.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Halos," he observed. "The wizard who created that spell must have had a sense of humor."

The Headmistress turned to the hag. "Yes, well…now that step is out of the way…there's the matter of collection blades. The ones we use here at Hogwarts are silver, but the contract specifies a golden blade...I don't suppose you brought one along?"

The hag gasped and snapped her fingers. "I knew I forgot something on the way here. I'll have to return to my hut."

"Golden collection blades?" Harry asked a bit warily. "Luna only has to collect the sweat on the outside of my skin, right?"

Hermione laughed at Harry's concern. "Oh don't be silly," she replied. "The blade is dull…just like the ones we use in herbology class to collect tuber pus."

"Oh, great," Harry said sarcastically. "That's a nice touch."

The hag excused herself to floo back and fetch the golden collection blade, special specimen bottles and the antidote. Once she disappeared into the flames, Hermione asked to look at the quality control measures specified within the contract. It didn't take her too long to find something more to worry about.

"What about this condition?" Hermione asked. "The one that states that the sweat has to be collected between the time of insertion and time of release?"

When Harry raised an eyebrow she turned and said, "No offense, but…" She then turned to the two older witches. "You do realize that Harry is a teenaged boy, and that there might not be a lot of time between those two milestones."

"Then Miss Lovegood will have to work fast, won't she?" the Headmistress replied.

"He could always delay his ejaculation with a potion," Luna offered.

The Headmistress shook her head. "A good idea, but another condition is that no magical aids can be used during the procreative act."

"What?" Hermione asked. "No magic involved at all, for either of us? Not even a contraceptive charm?"

"I'm sorry Miss Granger," the Headmistress replied, "But under the terms of the contract those are the requirements. No magic directly affecting the bodies of either the warrior or the deflowered virgin during sex."

"This is ridiculous," Harry said. "Bad enough that Hermione has to sacrifice her virginity, but now you say she has to run the risk of becoming pregnant?"

"Well, with any luck it won't be an issue," said Poppy. "Simple fertility check will tell us." She waved her wand towards Hermione's abdomen and muttered an incantation.

"_Expecto Ovum!"_

A silvery mist sprayed out of the wand tip and wrapped itself around Hermione's torso like a belt. A few seconds later the mist unwrapped itself and gathered in front of her waist, taking shape as two brilliantly golden orbs.

The Headmistress let out a small gasp as Madame Pomfrey shook her head and sighed.

"Miss Granger, you seem to be at the peak of your fertility cycle," she concluded.

Hermione nodded, sporting a dazed look on her face as she regarded the twin orbs. "That's what I was afraid of. And the fact that there are two eggs means…"

"Means that there are two catchers waiting for Harry's pitch," Poppy replied.

"So…so…what are the odds that she'll get pregnant?" Harry nervously asked.

Madame Pomfrey turned towards Harry. "That depends, Mr. Potter, on your virility. The ripest of eggs still needs your input, of course." She pointed her wand towards Harry's crotch, causing him to cross his legs reflexively.

"Now, Mr. Potter, no cause for alarm," she said. She then waved her wand (in a pattern that Harry thought was a bit too suggestive) and shouted out the incantation's masculine form:

"_Expecto Spermatozoa!"_

The sliver of silvery mist that emanated from Poppy's wand did one lap around Harry's waist, then snaked down his leg and disappeared up his trouser leg. A few seconds later a luminescent globe the size of a beach ball shot out of the top of his trousers and began to prance around, patronus style, powered by a meter-long flagellum trailing behind it. The conjured manifestation of a sperm cell stopped in mid-circle, then dove straight towards the golden eggs floating in front of Hermione. The collision produced a blinding flash that forced Harry's eyes shut. When he finally risked opening them up, he noticed that the golden eggs had been transformed into images of floating babies, crouched up in fetal positions with thumbs stuck in their mouths.

Harry swallowed down hard on a bit a bile that was trying to force its way up his throat. "Well I guess that answers that question," he said rather nervously.

Hermione, whose eyes had been completely fixed upon the conjurations in front of her, looked up at Harry with an expression midway between panic and awe. She then said very softly, "They're baby girls, Harry."

Luna walked up to Hermione without any pretense or care and ducked down to get an eye-level view of the twins. "Cute kids," she commented, "They'll have Hermione's face and Harry's wild hair."

Headmistress McGonagall snapped out of her own bewildered state and cast a _Finite Incantatum_ spell that banished the conjurations.

"This will only come about if Mr. Potter's, erm…issue…reaches Miss Granger's waiting eggs. The contraceptive charm would create a magical barrier that blocks this occurrence. There are muggle devices that have similar function, are there not?"

Hermione let out a breath and whacked her forehead with the butt of her palm (in the classic "why didn't I think of that?" gesture). "Condoms…of course!" She turned to Madame Pomfrey. "Surely you have some down in the infirmary?"

"Certainly not," replied Madame Pomfrey. "Officially, I am barred from unilaterally dispensing any type of birth control to students."

Harry snorted. "Okay, what about unofficially?"

The Hogwarts nurse looked nervously over towards her supervisor. "Well, unofficially….and very hypothetically, were a student to ask my advice on such matters…I would tell her that she'd be ill-advised to trust her wizard partner to take care of things, and that would go double if he were using muggle devices."

Luna nodded in agreement. "From what I've heard, nobody uses muggle birth control…even the muggle-born witches take it upon themselves to learn the contraceptive charm from one of the older students."

Harry frowned. "So it would be a waste of time to cast an _Accio Trojans_ spell?

"I'm afraid so," the Headmistress replied. "Best we can do is _Accio Parental Consent Form_!" When she cast the spell towards a large book sitting on a table in one corner of the office the cover flew open and pages started to flip. Half-way through it stopped, and a single page flew out off the book and into the Headmistress's hand. She looked at it carefully to make sure she had summoned the proper parchment, then reached out and placed it in Hermione's hand.

"Miss Granger, it would appear that a quick trip to a muggle chemist's is in order," she said. "But you'll need your father's permission first."

"What?"

"Your father's permission for you to use birth control, Miss Granger. It's spelled out very clearly on the parchment I just gave you."

"Why would Hermione need permission from her father for me to purchase or use a condom?" Harry asked. "We're both adults in the wizarding world, and in the muggle world we've both reached the age of consent."

"I am aware of that fact, Mr. Potter," the Headmistress replied primly. "But as you are both still students at Hogwarts…"

"But we aren't attending classes," Harry interrupted.

"That is correct, Harry, but as you will recall, the three of you are still registered as students undertaking independent study coursework. As such, you are still subject to the rules of this school, and I am obligated to enforce them, as much as I might wish not to."

"But…but the other girls…they don't get permission slips, do they?"

"No, they don't," replied the Headmistress. "But as I am not officially aware that any Hogwarts students is currently using the contraceptive charm, I am not required to ask for permission slips."

Harry shook his head with a rueful, tight-lipped grin. "Plausible deniability combined with 'Don't ask, Don't tell'."

The Headmistress nodded.

"Can't I get my mother to sign for me?" Hermione asked.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger," the Headmistress replied. "Truth be told, it should be the head of the House of Granger that signs, but as that is something quite difficult to determine for muggle families, we are allowed to accept the blessings of a student's father."

"But what about me?" asked Harry.

"Mr. Potter, as Head of the Noble House of Potter you are able to sign for yourself."

"Oh."

"Clock's ticking, Miss Granger," the Headmistress said. "I suggest you bow to the inevitable necessity and take a quick trip to your parents." She then consulted a different book whose pages began flipping on their own until they reached the "G's." Grabbing another piece of paper to fashion into a port key she looked up at Hermione and asked, "Would it be better to send you to your home or to your parent's work address?"

The blood drained from her face, and it was all Hermione could do to whisper. "Daddy will be at his office at this time of day."

Five minutes later, in a dental practice located within a well-to-do suburb of London, Roger Granger took a call from his receptionist.

"Dr. Granger," she said, "your daughter is here to see you."

"Hermione?" he asked with amazement. He was up and out from behind his desk and halfway down the hall when he was hit by the blur of his daughter's bear hug.

"Daddy, it's so good to see you." Hermione murmured into his shoulder.

Roger looked up from his daughter's embrace and saw that she was accompanied by her friend, Harry Potter. Hermione looked grim, while Harry Potter looked terrified.

"What's wrong, honey?" he asked his daughter.

"Oh, daddy, unless Harry and I have sex my friend Ron Weasley is going to die, and unless you sign a permission slip you are going to become a grandfather!"

"Started beyond belief" was an understated description of Roger Granger's reaction. But having heard fantastically impossible descriptions of magical creatures and happenings from his only daughter before, he had a ready-made coping mechanism in place.

He silently counted to ten, and then said, "Go find your mother, dear."

As Hermione bounded off towards her mum's office, Roger ushered Harry into his own office, reached inside his desk, and pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

He poured two-finger's worth of the amber liquid into each glass, then looked down at his watch. "Only ten-thirty," he noted. Looking up and straight into Harry's fear-filled eyes, he chuckled to himself as he pushed Harry's glass across the desk and raised his own.

"Well, the sun is over the yardarm somewhere, isn't it Harry?"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Sweat of a Gladiator**

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc. etc.

**..oo00OO00oo..**

**Chapter Three**

"So let me get this straight, Harry" said Roger Granger. "A wicked old witch wants a bottle of your sweat in exchange for an antidote that needs to be administered to Ron Weasley before lunchtime, or else he dies. But it can't be run-of-the-mill sweat, can it? No sir, it needs to be collected off of your naked body by one virgin female while you are in the middle of shagging another virgin female."

The dentist rose from his chair and started to pace back and forth behind his desk like a caged lion.

"Now does it have to be any specific virgin female?" he asked rhetorically. "Apparently not, and despite the fact that you have a fan club of teen-aged witches, any number of whom would jump at the chance to jump your bones, it's my daughter's virginity that you want to claim. And you come to me not to ask for my daughter's hand, or to court her, or even to ask if you can shag her, but to ask for my permission for the two of you to engage in safe sex. And if I refuse to sign the permission slip, the two of you will still shag in order to save your friend's life. The only difference will be that nine months from now, Hermione and you will become the parents of twin baby witches, because diagnostic spells show that she's at the peak of her fertility and you've got Olympic-caliber swimmers in your spunk."

He caught his breath before asking, "Have I left anything out?"

The young wizard looked down at the floor and nervously ran his hand through his unruly hair.

"Just the fact that while this appears to be the only way we can save Ron's life, that Headmistress McGonagall and St. Mungo's are still trying to find an alternative source that wouldn't require Hermione and me to go through with this."

Roger Granger snorted in disbelief. "_Require_ you and Hermione to go through with this?" he asked incredulously. "You sound implausibly reluctant…I should think that you'd be planning some correspondence…something like _Dear Penthouse Forum, I'm a seventeen-year-old wizard and you'll never believe what happened to me the day my best mate decided to tumble into a pool of poison'_…."

The dentist's comments immediately transformed Harry's nervousness into righteous anger. Bristling with indignation, he snapped right back.

"_I, _for one, don't think it's something to joke about, _sir_. The fact is that I _am_ incredibly reluctant to have to go down this path and take something so precious from your daughter, _even when it's offered freely!_ And I would have hoped that after all of the Sunday dinners this past summer that you would thought better of me."

The deep breath that Hermione's father had been holding during Harry's reply came out on its own accord, and took with it much of the machismo that had been building during his paternal-protective adrenaline rush. Roger slumped back down into his chair and poured himself another scotch.

"I'm sorry, Harry, you're absolutely right," he sighed. "It's just that Hermione's my little girl, and….well, I guess you have to be a father to understand the protective…"

A knock interrupted Roger's rationalization, and Hermione's mother popped her head in the door. "Roger, dear," she asked, "could we borrow Harry for a few minutes?"

Roger pouted. "But I've barely started to scare the bejesus out of him!"

"Yes dear," she replied. "I know dear. It will just be a few minutes, though."

Harry liked the sound of getting out from in front of Hermione's father, but was worried that Roger still didn't believe his story. But then he got a very bright idea. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his pensieve and controller, shrunk and kept with him for just this sort of purpose. "Maybe it would be easier to accept if you could see what happened?"

Roger nodded, having been introduced to the workings of a pensieve earlier that summer, when Harry used it to show him a few Quidditch matches. Harry tapped his wand on the two items, bringing them up to full size, then concentrated on the specific memory to extract. While he was pulling out the wisp from his temple, Roger picked up the controller. "What's this?" he asked.

Once the memory was safely swimming in the pensieve, Harry looked up and smiled. "It's a production prototype for a pensieve remote control."

Roger looked down at the stone version of a muggle remote control and smiled. While there were several unreadable runes carved into different buttons, the international symbols for "play," "fast forward" and "rewind" were also inscribed. "So with this thing I can control the memory?"

Harry nodded as he tapped the edge of the pensieve with his wand. Since muggles like the Grangers couldn't dive into the memory, he cast the spell that created a three-dimensional projection directly above the pensive.

"It was Hermione's idea, and her charms work. We have one of my wizard manufacturing companies gearing up to mass produce them. Should have them on the market by Christmas."

"And she did this even while she was helping you with your research project?"

Harry shrugged. "Smartest witch in her generation," he said, with no small bit of pride. "And soon to be one of the wealthier ones as well, if the goblin's sales projections are accurate."

The pensieve's projection was frozen on a view of the Hogwart's infirmary, just before Harry and Hermione had learned that Slughorn had identified the poison. Harry pointed out who everyone one, and noted that once the scene shifted that the only new characters were the Headmistress and the hag. Mr. Granger hit the "play" button and the scene started to play out (complete with Ron's convulsions.) He then hit the rewind button and was delighted to see the three-dimensional mini-Harry and mini-Hermione walk backwards out of the infirmary door.

Emily saw her chance and grabbed Harry's elbow. Ushering her out of her husband's office she said, "Give the man a remote control…." Once the office door closed she showed him to her office, where they found Hermione sitting behind her mum's desk, writing at a furious pace.

"Harry," Hermione said warmly, once her mum had left to watch the pensieved memory. "Take care of the door, would you?" After shutting the door, Harry cast silencing and locking charms to ensure their privacy.

"How's dad taking it?"

"About as well as could be expected, I imagine," Harry replied. "Have to say that your mum looked a bit warmer to the idea."

"Yes, well she always was the pragmatic one in the family," Hermione said with a smile. "Didn't take long at all for her to offer up some good suggestions."

"Really," asked Harry curiously. "Like what?"

Hermione looked up at Harry and laid the pen down on the desk. "Well, for starters she pointed out the obvious…that despite how awkward the situation is, that Ron's life is on the line and that there's no time for embarrassment or worrying about acting out of character, or dancing around issues. Later, no doubt…but not right now."

"Makes sense to me," Harry said.

"Well that's good," Hermione said, "because I need you to wank off."

Harry choked out a "What?"

Hermione looked up from the notepad.

"Harry," Hermione said with a bit of exasperation, "we need to focus here…would it be any easier if I used clinical terms and asked you masturbate to completion?"

Harry did his "fish out of water" thing with his mouth, and then replied. "Erm, let's stay clinical…I don't think I could handle you talking dirty right now."

"Great." Hermione replied. "Mum said that you could surf for porn on her computer, if that would help speed things along." She then stood up and walked around to the front of the desk. "Mum also thought you could do it while she and I were off to the chemists, but I think you should do it right now, before we go."

"Right now…you want me to wank off, right now….with you in the room?" Harry asked with amazement. "And why do you think that would be better?"

Hermione patted his shoulder, then reached down and flipped the hem of t-shirt up and over her head, revealing a pretty red lace bra. "Well, first off," she said matter-of-factly, "I'm not so sure about your internet search skills, and there's no need for you to flounder about in a titty-search on Google when the real thing is available."

With that comment she slipped her bra straps off of her shoulders, then deftly reached back and unhooked herself. Lemon-sized breasts spilled from their containers when she leaned forward.

"They're not as large as what you might find on the net," Hermione continued, as she set her bra down on the desktop and pinched her small, but perky nipples. "But Luna said that Ron seems to like it when she kisses herself, so that might compensate." Hermione then grabbed her left breast and tried to make tongue contact with her areola.

Harry choked out a cough. "Hermione! What are you doing! This isn't like you at all!"

"Well of course it isn't," she said, "but Ron's life…remember? No time for embarrassment. And besides, it's not like you wouldn't see them soon enough." She looked up, having failed to put her tongue on the mark, and sighed.

"Damn," she muttered, "either they're too small or my tongue is too short." She looked up and added, "Well, you get the idea, I hope."

"Erm, yeah,…no problem," Harry stammered. "But..why...again?"

"Oh, yes…I'm multi-tasking Harry….boys are supposed to be easily aroused through visual stimulation, right?"

"Erm, yes…but let's back up to why I should be wanking off in your mum's office."

Hermione smiled. "Well, while Dad was raking you over the coals, mum and I were sitting here trying to lay out the sweat collection choreography. Poppy said that even if you were working up a good sweat that it would take at least a minute for Luna to collect enough for the potion, right?"

Harry was too busy staring to realize that Hermione's pause was intended to elicit a response. Not that she minded, exactly.

"So…well…mum echoed my fear that, as virile as you are that you might not last a minute once you're inside me. So she suggested we go on-line for some advice on how you might last longer."

Harry looked up and asked, "You and your mum were talking about how fast I'd cum?"

"Erm, yes Harry…it turns out that there is a lot of on-line resources for premature ejaculation. Almost all of the sites we found recommended masturbation prior to the sex act…to take the edge off, as it were."

"You figure that I suffer from premature ejaculation?".

"It's nothing to be ashamed about," Hermione explained. "Happens to the majority of teen-aged males, according to the experts."

"Oh really," Harry asked. "And how do these experts define premature ejaculation?"

"Well," Hermione said, "the working definition is something like the man reaching orgasm before his partner wants him to."

"Thought so," Harry said. "So how can I be premature if I've never had a partner before?"

"What?" Hermione asked. "You mean that you've never?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Not that it matters for the sweat, I guess, but I'd have had a halo over my head too."

"Oh," Hermione replied, secretly pleased. "Well then…let's say that we were concerned about the potential when you do have a partner."

"Yeah, like within the next hour and a half?" Harry snarked.

Getting the blush on Hermione's face that he'd been looking for, he then asked, "Any worries about how much time it would take me to get hard again?"

Hermione looked down at Harry's crotch and couldn't help but smile. "No, but if that's what you're worried about, then you best get started straight away, right?"

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "This is so ridiculous," he said, as he undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. He then flipped his t-shirt off, recaptured Hermione's gaze, and dared her to break eye contact as he carefully lifted the top of his boxers out and over his erection.

She lasted all of three seconds.

"Oh, my," she exclaimed, as she stared at his crotch. "So, erm…do you want me to give you some privacy, or…"

Harry reached out and dragged a finger along Hermione's jaw line. When she looked up he gently asked, "Would you like to watch?"

Hermione's eyes went wide as she tried to quickly determine an appropriate response. Unfortunately, her tongue jumped the gun and answered for her when it poked out of her mouth and dragged itself slowly along her upper lip.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Harry said smartly. He then placed his hands on Hermione's jean-clad hips, and lifted her onto the front of her mum's desk.

"Erm…would it be easier if you were standing, Harry?" she asked. "Or maybe lying down? I could always transfigure mum's desk into a bed, or whatever you normally use when you…well…"

Harry reached out, placed an index finger on Hermione's lips, and shushed her.

"Standing will work for me," he said softly.

As he started on the assigned task Hermione stammered out another question.

"Would…would you like to watch me, too?"

Harry's eyes danced at the thought, but not wanting to push too fast, replied, "Yeah, actually…I mean…if you wanted to…or if your hands didn't have anything else to do."

Hermione swallowed as she nodded in reply. Harry watched intently as she reached down, unbuttoned her jeans, and slowly lowered the zipper.

A hint of crimson knickers showed when she pushed away the denim fabric.

A hint of well-trimmed pubic hair showed when she dragged a finger along the elastic of those knickers.

Harry couldn't help but moan at the sight. Embarrassed at this lack of control, he muttered, "Oh, erm…sorry, just couldn't…help."

Hermione smiled as she imitated Harry and shushed him by placing her finger on his lips. This, however, was rather counterproductive, as she had used the finger that had just been exploring her knickers. Harry groaned again as he thought about scents and tastes, and tried to resist the temptation of sucking her finger into his mouth. It helped when Hermione suddenly pulled her hand back and reached for her wand.

"Hey, as long you are, well...long…maybe I do have something else to do with my hands." Looking over the desktop Hermione picked up a stapler and asked, "Mind if I practice my transfiguration skills?"

Dazed and confused, Harry asked, "Erm…no, but what for?"

Hermione smiled as she uttered a Latin incantation and waved her wand around the stapler. The office tool shook, then began to melt and morph into a more cylindrical and rounded shape.

"Something else mum and I talked about," Hermione explained. "She wants to make sure that I know how to put a condom on you correctly…so I just thought you might be more comfortable if she watched me work with a copy, rather than the real thing."

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry…forgot to use the clinical terms. I'm transfiguring mum's stapler into a full-scale model of your fully-erect phallus." A thought came to mind, leading her to add, "I guess I should ask…does it get any bigger that that?"

"What?"

"Your penis, Harry…is it fully erect?"

"How can you ask something like…I mean…what, are you disappointed or something?"

Hermione looked up from her sculpting work with alarm. "Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, no…not at all, you're more that big enough… I mean, Merlin knows how it's going to fit..."

"Then what is it…this need to have a life-sized replica?"

"Well," Hermione explained. "Always good to practice on similar equipment, isn't it?" she asked. "It also will help at the chemists."

"Why would want to bring a…a…transfigured stapler to the chemists?"

"Condoms come in different sizes, Harry," Hermione patiently explained.

"Wouldn't it have just been easier to ask how long I was?"

She smiled a reply. "Yes, I've heard that boys have this compulsion to know how they measure up….so you know, for certain, whether you'll need regular sized or extra-large condoms?"

"Given the circumstances, couldn't you just buy a variety and well experiment later?"

Hermione shook her head. "Mum thought it'd be best if we were in and out of the chemists as fast as possible, so making sure we have all of our data in hand will help."

"Oh, right….wait a minute…you really were talking about my…length with…wait, stupid question, you already said she gave me permission to porn surf…doesn't she have a ruler?"

"Sorry…we already looked." Hermione replied. She then asked, "Could to turn to the side? I need a landscape view."

Harry shook his head as he turned to his left

"Couldn't have used a banana, could you?" Harry teased, as she did her work.

"No, this is too important to approximate," Hermione replied. "Besides, it gives me a chance to show Mum what I've learned at Hogwarts."

"What, like bringing your art projects home from primary school?"

Hermione gave him a sly smile. "Something like that."

Harry's hands had been busy throughout this conversation, keeping him on edge even as his brain was engaged in conversation. But as the stapler began to appear more and more life like, and as Hermione checked her work for smoothness by stroking her hand up and down the ebony shaft, Harry's mind and hand went on overdrive, and nature (not to mention his ejaculate) took its course.

"Merlin, I'm sorry," Harry exclaimed, as he looked down at the soiled carpet. Her smile was a rather perplexing response.

"Nothing to be sorry about, Harry," she replied. "That was the plan, remember?"

"What…spray all over your mum's office?"

"Nothing a cleaning spell can't take care of."

"Right," Harry said sheepishly. He reached down to grab his wand out of his back pocket (currently located down around his ankles).

"Nice bum," Hermione uttered.

Harry looked up and smiled. "What was that, Hermione?"

"Erm, nothing," she said sheepishly.

"Oh, I suppose you and your mum figured there was a logical need for you to check out my arse?"

Hermione smiled nervously. "Erm, well, not exactly."

"And the compliment wasn't part of part of some other pre-meditated pre-shag preparations?"

"No."

Harry stood up and smiled. "Well, good then."

Trying change the topic, Hermione blurted out,

"So what's his name?"

"Who?"

"Your penis…what's your penis's name?"

"Why do you think he'd have one?"

"Well, from what I've heard Lavender and Parvati say, all boys name their penis…something like _Harry Jr_., or…"

"He doesn't have a name."

"Oh, really?" she asked. When he nodded his affirmation she added, "Well that's too bad…it might be easier to talk about these things if he had a name."

"Well why don't you give him one, then." Harry asked, with a one-off tone of voice.

"Maybe I will," Hermione said with a smile. Then, without telling Harry, she used her wand to push an office chair behind Harry and drag it forward, forcing him to take a seat.

"What was that for?"

"Oh, no reason," Hermione said with a smile. The chair had ended up only a few feet in front of her as she sat on her mum's desk. Taking the opportunity to get more comfortable, she lifted her legs up and rested a foot on each armrest.

It didn't escape Harry's attention that his trousers and boxers were still wrapped around his ankles, and that Hermione was topless with the front of her jeans unfastened. Hard for him not to notice, actually, as he was presently sitting in between her legs.

"So," Hermione said, "We need a back-up virgin in case you do orgasm inside me before Luna finishes her work."

"A back-up virgin?"

Hermione nodded, as if a teacher were admonishing a student. "Harry, we are limited by time, not by virgins. You can't have a do-over with me, and even if Luna steps up to the plate I won't be able to collect the sweat once you get hard again and get inside her…so we need a back-up."

"Oh, well, guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right, Harry," she said sweetly. "Now I'm open to suggestions, although we really should try and limit ourselves to the sixth or seventh-years, if at all possible."

"Makes sense," replied Harry. "Got anyone in mind?"

"Well, what do you think about Mandy Brocklehurst?"

"Seventh-year Hufflepuff? Hmmm…pretty, but I don't think I've ever said three words to her."

"Oh, somebody you know, then," Hermione said. "Hmmm, well we can throw out the obviously unqualified like Lavender, or Parvati."

"Why would Parvati be unqualified?"

"We need virgins, Harry, with a capital V."

"Oh, well I guess I wouldn't know."

"Right….like you boys don't talk about these things…let's see, now, sixth-year Gryphs…no, seventh year Ravenclaws… how about Padma?"

"Don't think so," Harry replied. "She still mad at Ron and me over the Yule Ball fiasco."

"Right then, sixth-year Ravens…you don't know any besides Luna, I guess…and the Puffs…oh, Merlin, why didn't I think of her in the first place?"

"Who?"

"Susan Bones."

"Oh, well yeah, Susan's nice and…"

"_And we have a winner_," Hermione exclaimed, as she nodded towards Harry's crotch. She looked at the wall clock and said, "Five minutes…hah! I told mum that we wouldn't need to worry about Viagra."

Harry looked down and realized that he was almost fully erect again. For some reason he seemed rather embarrassed by the fact, and he responded by reaching down and pulling up his trousers.

Hermione shook her head and tsk tsk'ed herself, saying "Pigtails and titties…I should have known."

Harry reached over and spun Hermione around to face him. "Should have known what, Hermione?"

"That Susan Bones would be your type…I mean, why not, with a rack like that."

Harry scowled as he stood and put a hand on each of Hermione's naked shoulders.

"Hermione, I think Susan is very nice, but not because of her bodacious ta-ta's."

"Harry, you don't have to worry about hurting my feelings…"

"No, you listen to me, Hermione," Harry said, starting to get angry. "I am quite sure that it was your breasts and the distance between your crotch and my nose that got me hard again, and not the thought of Susan's knockers."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "You're not just humoring me?"

"Argghh…I can't believe we're discussing this…look, Hermione, if I was a tit-man why would I have had any interest in Cho….or Ginny?"

"Hmmm, maybe because Ginny might grow into her mum's?"

"Oh, now there's an erection killer, if I've ever heard one."

That comment broke the tension, and they both laughed quietly as they started to dress.

"So what does get you off, Harry?" Hermione asked off-handedly.

"What if I said bushy brown hair and a tight bum?"

Hermione jerked her head up to look at Harry and said, "You don't have to say that, you know…"

"Even if it's a truthful answer to the question?"

"Yeah, right."

Harry looked closely at Hermione and let out a deep breath. Almost imperceptivity, he reached back for his wand, and with seeker-quick reflexes fired off a body-bind spell that hit Hermione square in the chest. A silencing spell quickly followed, catching her scream before it even tried to get past the silencing charms.

"I'm sorry that you wouldn't believe me otherwise," he explained. He then raised his wand in the air and cast a wizard's oath as Hermione's eyes bulged out.

"On my magic, I swear that I find Hermione Jane Granger so incredibly sexy that she's been the subject of at least three of my wet dreams in the past two months."

A bluish glow of magical energy pulsed outward from Harry's body, strong enough to blow Hermione's bangs away from her face. He waited a few seconds, just to make sure that he'd spoken not just the truth, but a truth that his magic couldn't twist on him, then brought his wand down to release Hermione's binding and her voice.

"Harry!" she shouted, as she ran and pulled him into a bear hug. "That was the stupidest, most idiotic, most lame-brained, courageous, romantic, exhilarating thing you have ever done!" After a few sobs she added, "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

The desk phone interrupted the embrace, and when Hermione looked at the caller id she recognized the mobile number.

"Mum?" she asked after picking up the receiver. "Erm, yeah, we're fine…be right out…bye." She then hung up and told Harry, "That was Mum."

"So I gathered," he replied dryly.

"We should go," said Hermione, as she threw her t-shirt back on and wiped the tears from her cheek. "Need to mind the time." She quickly tidied the office with a spell and retrieved her notepad. As she walked towards the door, Harry reached down and picked up the transfigured stapler. "Hey," he said, as he tossed it towards her, "you left your penis."

Hermione caught it, gave it a look, and smiled. "It's your penis, not mine," she replied with a smile. "Oh, and Harry..."

"Yes"

"His name is Mr. Phoenix."


End file.
